


Spasms

by anaer



Series: Spasms [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 13:55:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4627815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaer/pseuds/anaer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick just wanted a quiet night in with Jason. Or not so quiet, all things considered.  He wasn't counting on Bruce and Wally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spasms

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in a universe that's a pre and post new 52 mashup of some kind, but that's really not relevant to this story, as it's mostly pre-52.

The nature of the relationship between one Dick Grayson (the hero known as Nightwing) and one Jason Todd (the anti-hero/sometimes villain/former sidekick/whatever he felt like being at the moment known as Red Hood) was the stuff entire dissertations could be written about.  In fact, Dick Grayson was almost positive that at least one dissertation _had_ been written on it, because the way one Barbara Gordon (the flawless, all-seeing angel from above also known as Oracle) had interrogated him about said relationship for three weeks straight had been a) a little too invasive for his tastes, and b) coincidentally around the time she was working on her doctorate in psychology. 

 

If there was one thing Batman had taught them all, it was never to believe in coincidences.

 

Also, the fact that a few months later a fictional short story appeared in an anthology by a then-unknown author about the lurid love affair between step-brothers Gray Richardson and Todd Jackson made it a little too coincidental for even one not trained by Batman (not to mention the fact that this was also the anthology that featured the first story in the award winning series, _Native Arrow_ , a story about the tragic love pentagon of native-raised Harper as he was pulled between the desires of the rich young socialite Rich Dickson; the sweet, hardworking but ever poor Walter East; the beautiful Amazonian princess Troia Donn; and the mysterious assassin from the far east known only as Jade).  However, the quite suspect romance novels/short stories of the now internationally renowned author Babs Jordan were neither here nor there. 

 

What was here (and also there) was the nature of the relationship between Nightwing and the Red Hood.  They were brothers—sometimes (and, really, only by a technicality, as Jason was apt to point out); enemies—but only when Jason was in a bad mood and throwing a hissy fit; even friends—although Jason denied that up until and past his dying day.  And then there was the little, tiny, insignificant matter of the (extremely few in number) times that they had slept together—but they were not boyfriends, in any sense of the word.  Their meetings were extremely clandestine in nature.  The occasional rooftop, back alley, abandoned warehouse.  And then, of course, there were the rare times when they had more than five minutes and went back to whoever’s place was closer.  They were always sporadic, of course—mainly because Dick refused to believe that Jason followed him around to memorize his schedule and waylay him whenever he had a free moment.  Because that was just a silly notion, even if it did seem like Jason was starting to show up _every single time_ Dick had a free moment.    

 

They were superheroes; their schedules were much too unpredictable to predict, after all.  This time, it really was just coincidence.

 

And it was that same coincidence how five minutes ago, Nightwing had finished dealing with the usual riffraff to walk outside and find one Red Hood waiting expectantly (and rather impatiently, if the way he was fondling his gun was any indication) for him, only for the other man to instantly waylay him with his mouth.  Honestly, if Dick didn’t know better he would say that Jason was starting to get kind of needy.  But needy and Jason were two words that had never—oh, who was he kidding, Jason really _had_ always been somewhat needy.  He just masked it well under a thin veneer of anger and violence and really great sex. 

 

…Not that Dick knew about the sex part until _long_ after Jason had come back to life and was well past legal, thank you very much. He had standards, after all.  He wasn’t _Roy._ (But he had slept with him once.  Although, Titan trysts didn’t really count; everyone did them.) 

 

“For fuck’s sake, Dick,” Jason said suddenly, disconnecting their lips to scowl at his older brother (but again—only by a technicality).  “You’re thinking so loud you’re giving _me_ a complex.”

 

“Sorry.  It’s just…” Dick trailed off, unsure how to put ‘I was just thinking about how needy and stalkerish you’ve gotten’ into words without it ending in Jason getting pissed and storming off, leaving one poor, unfortunate Nightwing both unsatisfied and bruised and/or shot in his delicate manbits.  Jason (obviously—and also, possibly, _thankfully_ ) took his silence the wrong way.

 

“I swear to god, if the next word out of your mouth is ‘Bruce’ or some variation of any name referring to him, I will break your nose.”

 

“Bru—what?” Dick asked, brow furrowed in utter confusion.  “Why would I say something about Bruce?  I try not to think about Bruce when we’re about to have sex.  Why are _you_ thinking about Bruce when we’re about to have sex?”

 

If possible, Jason’s scowl deepened.  Dick didn’t think it was possible, but Jason lived off doing the impossible.  Literally, what with him…coming back to life and all.  Something generally considered impossible.

 

“And there it is.  You just killed the mood.”

 

“ _I_ killed the mood?  Excuse me, I’m not the one who decided to bring up Bruce when we were _getting ready to have sex_.”

 

“But you’re the one who was clearly having more fun with his imagination, so I’ll just leave you two to it.”  And now Jason was backing up and turning to leave, and that was just not okay. 

 

“I was—ah—I was just thinking that we should take this back to my place!” Dick announced, grabbing his sort-of-not-at-all- _thankfully_ -brother’s arm.  “Because, I mean, I’m done for the night.  You’re done for the night.  It’s just a few blocks over, and it’s not like I’m expecting any company.  So I was thinking we could…make it…kind of a…thing?  Maybe?”  Dick really hoped that came out sounding more confident than he felt it did.  But if the way Jason was now tilting his head in contemplation was any reassurance, it had. 

 

“Fine.  Whatever.  Lead the way.”

 

Nightwing internally fist-pumped.  Little Dick was getting lucky tonight! 

 

…Although, he _really_ needed to come up with a better name than ‘Little Dick’.

 

~~~

 

It was by no means easy trying to unlock a Batman-designed door while your former replacement attempted to maul your face off with his mouth, but let it never be said that one Dick Grayson was not in any way talented.  All those years training with Batman had to pay off in some way, even if this was almost definitely not what Bruce had been training him for.  Training either of them for, come to think about it, but Jason wasn’t the one currently attempting to click the final lock into place without looking, all while trying to fend off a rather vicious attack on his mouth.  But, at last, the door clicked open, and the two of them stumbled through rather gracefully.  Or, rather, Dick stumbled through rather gracefully.  Jason almost tripped over his feet backing up because he was surprisingly uncoordinated when not in the midst of attempting to disembowel twenty drug dealers with a teaspoon all at the same time.  Not that Dick had any proof that Jason had ever _actually_ done something like that, but Dick wouldn’t put it past him. 

 

“The fuck are you still thinking about like that?” his not-boyfriend demanded as the door shut behind them, already attempting (always unsuccessfully) to drag Nightwing out of his costume. 

 

“…That you’re sexy when you beat people up?” Dick offered:  a slightly modified version, of course.  It was close enough to the truth, at any rate. 

                                                                                                                    

“Why is that even a question,” Jason muttered.  He had given up on trying to disrobe Dick and instead was pulling his own clothes off, starting with that stupid, redundant domino mask that Dick was absolutely determined to make magically disappear one day.  Sure, it was useful for all those times Jason ditched the helmet (which, for someone who’s moniker was “Red Hood” was surprisingly often), but what use did Jason have for a secret identity?  He was, for all intents and purposes, still dead.  And every person Dick had told about the whole “mask under helmet” thing Red Hood was known for had either laughed for twenty minutes straight ( _Roy_ ), commented on how retarded that was ( _Wally_ ), or made a smart comment under their breath about how Dick shouldn’t be engaging in an incestuous relationship with someone commonly considered to be a villain anyway ( _Barbara_ ). 

 

Then again, it was entirely possible that the hero known as Dick Grayson just needed new, _better_ friends.  He would take that into consideration at a later date when he wasn’t about to engage in not-quite-incestuous coitus with a not-quite-villain.  Especially now that Jason had made it down to his briefs.  Dick, realising he had wasted enough time already, quickly shucked off the tight black and blue spandex he wore, and the two were once again at each other’s lips, two steps from his shut bedroom door.  Opening it was inconvenient – there was a reason he usually left the door swung wide – but no real dilemma, what with the lack of lock.  A twist of the wrist, a shove, and the two of them were once more stumbling across the threshold, even as the wooden plank slammed into the bedroom wall.  It was only a couple more steps to the bed; Dick was already counting them out in his mind.  The sudden loud yelp that came from said bed behind him jolted him out of the count, however.  In fact, it jolted him out of the whole situation. 

 

Dick spun around in time to see what was definitely a freckled, naked body disappear behind quickly yanked up sheets.  A freckled, naked body that looked awfully familiar, and sat, dishevelled, next to another barely covered naked body that was only slightly less familiar, but possibly more disturbing.  He froze. 

 

“Dick!” Wally exclaimed from where he sat, his face as red as the hair on his head.

 

“Wally?!” he cried, unable to blink his eyes away from what he was seeing in front of him.  His eyes scanned over to the man in bed next to his best friend once more, and in that moment, Dick Grayson knew what it felt like to have his soul crushed completely.  “ _Bruce_?!”

 

Behind him, Jason coughed.  “Well, um.  This is…awkward.”

 

~~~

 

To find one Wally West, the hero known the world over (and on several other worlds as well) as the Flash, at the apartment of one Richard Grayson was not an unusual occurrence.  The friendship between the two men had started young, in their impressionable, curious, dangerously heroic teenage years, and had lasted almost a decade since its inception.  Through manipulation, stolen girlfriends, temporary retirement, and even one noteworthy case of sex pollen, it had endured all manner of testing, and was hitherto legendary in certain circles of superheroes (in this case, the circles being the various iterations of the Titans, teen or not).  Wally, a man with more time on his hands than he generally knew what to do with, had made it a habit early on to run by Dick’s place whenever he was bored and take care of whatever chores happened to be lying around incomplete.  Wally had a thing about doing chores; he was kind of a freak that way.  Dick, a man that was lazier than most people outside of this room knew, found it an arrangement entirely to his liking. 

 

How this current arrangement (with Wally naked in _his bed_ with _Bruce_ ) had come to be from that, Dick wasn’t sure he wanted to know.  Or even think about.  He needed Raven: she could wipe these memories from his mind.

 

“What, uh…what are you doing here?” Wally offered weakly, bashful smile plastered on his backstabbing face.  Dick glared. 

 

“I _live_ here!  That’s…oh my god, that’s _my_ bed!  That you’re on!  With _Bruce_!  My _bed_!”

 

Wally coughed, and muttered something under his breath.  Dick pretended like he absolutely did not hear his most trusted best friend say, “Then you probably don’t want to hear about what we did in the kitchen.”  Bruce remained steadfastly silent, assessing the situation with those cold, dead eyes of his.  Maybe Jason had a point when he said some of the things he did about their shared father. 

 

Oh god, _Jason_ , Dick suddenly realised.  He did not turn around to look at the younger man, despite noticing that the relentless gaze Bruce hadn’t let up with was, in actuality, fixed behind Dick’s shoulder.  And that’s when Nightwing remembered that, no, they had not seen fit to tell Bruce about the change in their relationship. 

 

“Jason,” Bruce finally spoke.  There was silence from behind Dick for a while, but he still refused to turn and look.  He didn’t need to see the murder in Jason’s eyes to know that if he didn’t die of a heart attack before the night was out, he was probably going to be the next victim in the wave of violence Red Hood had brought to Gotham. 

 

“…Bruce,” Jason gave in and acknowledged.  And now Bruce was staring at Dick.

 

“ _Jason_?” he demanded.  Dick scowled.  Bruce had no stones to throw except at his own damn head, that was for sure.

 

“Oh, right, yeah, _Jason_ , that’s the issue here because that’s certainly not my best friend next to you, _naked_ , in _my bed_ as you determinedly ruin my childhood in front of me!”

 

“It’s _Jason_!” Bruce returned, still angry and demanding, like he had any right at all to that much blatant hypocrisy.  Wally looked like he was two seconds away from disappearing through the bed and the floor below if that wouldn’t leave them with a giant explosion on their hands.  Literally. 

 

“And that’s— _Wally_!”

 

“Um.  Yeah?  Hi,” the redhead tried to interject. 

 

“He’s your brother!” Bruce exploded.

 

“We’re adopted,” Jason said.  “Both of us.  Remember that bit?”  Bruce turned the full force of his patented bat glare onto his second oldest, least favourite, most problematic child.  Dick could feel Jason shutting up behind him.

 

Bruce turned back to Dick.  “He _kills_ people.”

 

Wally cleared his throat rather loudly, and all eyes turned to him.  One naked shoulder shrugged under the gazes.  He raised an eyebrow.  “Is that really a deal breaker, though?  I mean, Barry definitely killed Zoom to stop him that one time, and _I_ fully intended to kill Inertia, which I would have if I hadn’t, you know…fucked him up even worse, so—” 

 

“ _Not_.  _Helpful_.”  Bruce bit out.  The unimpressed look Wally shot back showed how interested in helping Batman the Flash was. 

 

“Thank you, Flash,” Jason said, and if that was the faintest bit of undeserved vindication in Jason’s voice that Dick was detecting—

 

“Don’t _thank_ him, he’s sleeping with Bruce!”  _In my bed!_ He added mentally.

 

“I mean, yeah, but…his point still stands.” And now it was Dick glaring darkly at Jason, who, once more, decided that discretion was the better part of valour and stopped talking. 

 

“Why would you do this to me?!” Dick shouted, turning back to Bruce and Wally.  Wally shrugged half-heartedly. 

 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but…it really had nothing to do with you at all.” 

 

“Which is why you’re _in my bed_?!” And if those last three words were uttered in a shriek, well, Wally deserved it.  Bruce moved and—oh.  He was standing up.  Naked.  Which, in all actuality, was not the first time Dick had ever seen Bruce au natural, but he fully intended on making it the last.  Because Bruce and sex was not something he had ever taken the time to consider outside of Catwoman and Talia – and even Talia was only by virtue of showing up with his offspring, and Dick had been half convinced Damian was a test tube baby, anyway (a belief that was further cemented in his mind after learning how Talia had horribly stolen poor Jason’s virginity from his young, fragile, re-animated body—no way Jason and Bruce had _ever_ slept with the same woman).  Jason made a weird noise next to him, and Dick took comfort in the fact that he wasn’t the only one uncomfortable with what was happening in front of them. 

 

“What are you _doing_?!” Dick finally managed to shout. 

 

“Getting out of your bed,” was the ever-unhelpful reply.  “We need to _talk_ ,” and there it was, that tone that Bruce reserved for all things Jason, “And right here is not the place for it.”

 

“Right.  Of course not.” That absolutely did not sound hysterical at all.  Because Dick wasn’t crying on the inside. “We’ll just…be in the living room.  Waiting.  For you to get dressed.  And out of my bed.  Oh my _god_ …” 

 

~~~

 

Waiting for Bruce and Wally in the living room was only marginally better than witnessing the mentally traumatizing scene between them in his bed, Dick realised.  It had been a mere two minutes that Dick and Jason had been out here – with Jason, thankfully, giving Dick the space to get his head together before confrontation part deux (and he hadn’t even tried to slip out the front door yet) – but two minutes was a freakishly long time when one half of the not-at-all-a-couple in question had superspeed.  Wally could get a lot done in two minutes.  And Dick did not want to continue that train of thought at all, nope, he was stopping right there.  

 

It was a shame, really, that this had to have happened in his apartment, Dick couldn’t help but bemoan.  He had really liked this place.  It was perfect.  The kitchen was large enough for him to cook comfortably, with more counter space than he had come across at any of the other places he had looked at when apartment shopping, including the island that sat in the middle.  There were two extra bedrooms here, one of which he had transformed into a study, and the other which Dick had taken the time to install a hidden door in front of to hide his vigilante activities.  His living room was a tad small, perhaps, but it was around the same size as his bedroom, which was perfect for a young, hot bachelor living on his own with only the occasional booty call (read: Jason) stopping by to share it with him every now and again.  It really was a shame.  Now he would have to burn the whole place down.

 

Finally, the door creaked open and Bruce emerged, Wally trailing slowly after him.  Bruce was clad in full Batman regalia with his cowl down, and Dick was suddenly struck by the notion that he and Jason were still in their underwear.  Out of the corner of his eye he spotted his Nightwing uniform crumpled on the floor.  He suppressed a sigh.  At least Wally had the decency to be wearing normal clothes—although, come to think of it, Wally could do that weird thing where he made clothes out of energy so…in a matter of speaking, couldn’t he still be considered naked?  Dick blanched and made another note to call Raven as soon as he had a free moment. 

 

“Look,” Jason said suddenly, and Dick yanked his head around to stare at him.  “Bruce.  Before you decide to get all judgemental, I just want you to know.  You’re an _ass_.”  Jason was talking to Bruce.  He was actually addressing Bruce with words, and not physical violence.  Dick didn’t know whether to smile or die because…why did it have to be _now_? And why did he have to say that, this was awkward enough without thinking about Bruce’s ass and maybe he shouldn’t wait, maybe he should text Raven this instant.

 

Bruce looked two seconds away from exploding at Jason, though, so any potential mind wipe was moved back to the backburner.  

 

“Okay, let’s just…sit down,” Dick said. “We can sit down and talk things through like adults.  We’re all adults here.  Adults doing…adult things.” He coughed.  “Adult things in my apartment, in my bed, and forget just having sex, how the hell do you end up having sex in _my apartment_!”  He paused, then added, “You don’t even _like_ each other!”

 

“I don’t have to like him,” Wally muttered, dropping into one of the armchairs, and in the split second he paused, the way the redhead’s lips twisted into a smirk that could only be described as devious sent alarm bells screaming.  “I like his _dick_.”

 

Dick froze, the thick, twisted, dark feeling of utter betrayal welling up within him.  That _asshole_.  That fucking _asshole_.  His own best friend.  From _childhood_.  To desecrate his name like that.  Wally had always been fond of dick jokes, ever since he’d learned Robin’s real name – being friends with Roy had only compounded the problem – but there were lines.  Wally had run straight through those lines when Dick had walked in and found him in bed with Bruce, but this?  This right here, this final joke, was the explosive aftermath:  the total decimation of any and all trust. 

 

Even Bruce was looking at Wally in what could only be described as abject horror. 

 

Jason, on the other hand, had one hand covering his mouth, shoulders shaking, and if even the faintest sound of laughter escaped his throat, well.  Wally and Dick’s relationship wouldn’t be the only one ruined tonight. 

 

“We,” he began slowly, “are not friends.” 

 

Wally’s lips twitched up, even more amused by Dick’s righteous – _justified_! – anger.  The hero known as Nightwing narrowed his eyes. 

 

“You know, I thought Roy was a man whore, but you, Wally—you’re even worse than he is!”

 

Wally’s smirk dropped.  “First: way to insult the man who raised you when he’s sitting right here.  Second:  I resent that implication.  Unlike Roy, I have standards!  You don’t see me sleeping with every two-bit supervillain that comes around, do you?  Or _any_ supervillain for that matter!”

 

“Oh yeah?” Dick shot back, “Then what about the Pied Piper?”

  
“Piper’s reformed!  And for your information, he’s worked pretty hard to be that way – and helped me save the twin cities more than once!  And more than _you_ have, at any rate.” 

 

“Fine.  Magenta, then!  You dated Frankie for ages; don’t even _try_ to deny it.”

 

“You know she wasn’t crazy then; she lost her mind after we broke up, thank you very much.  And by the way, not okay to bring up psycho kidnapping stalkers!”  Wally shivered all over, but Dick remained unmoved.  Next to him, Jason shrugged a shoulder.

 

“It’s true, Dick.  That’s…kind of a low blow,” the younger former-Robin injected.  Dick turned his glare onto his not-quite-boyfriend. 

 

“Stop taking his _side_.”  Jason shut up, choosing instead to plop down on the couch, leaving Dick the only one standing, as Bruce had taken the other armchair.  He was much too wound up to sit anymore, though, and instead took to pacing and shaking his head, glaring at the two men he had up until this point trusted the most. 

 

“And for the record,” Wally added hotly, because he was an idiot who did not know how to think things through properly, and whose mouth moved even faster than his brain (somehow), “ _Nowhere_ is there a rule against sleeping with your best friend’s adopted dad.”

 

Silence reigned over the apartment as Dick’s left eye set to twitching.  And then the straw broke, and the former circus-star exploded. “That’s because it _DOESN’T NEED TO BE SAID_!” He scrubbed a hand through his thick hair and took one long, deep breath in.  “And either way, there is definitely, _definitely_ a rule about how you DON’T HAVE SEX WITH YOUR _BEST FRIEND’S DAD_ IN YOUR _BEST FRIEND’S ROOM_ LIKE _WHAT THE FUCK_ , WALLY! WHAT THE _ACTUAL FUCK_?!  God, I _SLEEP_ in that bed.  I was gonna fuck Jason in that bed!  I _HAVE_ fucked Jason in that bed!”

 

Bruce’s jaw clenched tighter, but the man remained silent for the time being.  Wally, on the other hand, continued to contribute absolutely nothing of value.

 

“Tmi, dude.”

 

“TMI?  _TMI_?!  TMI was WALKING IN ON YOU with Bruce’s PENIS up YOUR _ASS_!”

 

Jason made fake retching noises behind him, that only grew worse when Bruce finally decided to contribute to the conversation, taking over for Wally, who for once decided that it was in his best interest to stop talking.  Good thing, too, because knowing the speedster, he wouldn’t be able to resist making another dick joke, at which point Dick would have no choice but to relieve Jason’s jacket of one of its guns and shoot his former best friend in the leg.  Or maybe the head. 

 

“We weren’t yet… _copulating_ …when you walked in,” Bruce corrected sternly. 

 

“Who the fuck even uses the word ‘copulating’?”  Jason muttered under his breath, crossing his arms across his (still sexy, still naked) chest with a huff.  Bruce glared at him.  Jason glared back.  Dick glared at the both of them and then glared at Wally for good measure.

 

And suddenly, Bruce was switching over to full parental mode, and the relentless glare let up from Jason, Dick instead coming to fall under the full weight of Bruce’s stare.  Dick knew that look.  He hated that look.  He would care a lot more about that look if he were not already suffering from betrayal of the worst kind.  Still, though, his heart twinged a little as Bruce looked at him with—

 

“Dick, I’m _disappointed_ in you.”

 

There it was.  The magic word.  Even Wally flinched a little under the full force of Bruce’s disappointed dad voice.  It was somehow twenty times worse than his angry Batman voice, and Dick, for one, did not feel that he deserved this in lieu of his pseudo-father’s recent past-times with his former best friend. 

 

“Jason is your _brother_ ,” he reiterated.

 

“ _Adopted_ ,” said brother interjected once more, but was ignored.

 

“And he is young – _much_ younger than you – and he has been in a very fragile emotional state for quite some time, and for you to take _advantage_ of him like this—!”  Bruce cut himself off, but the heavy, overbearing weight of his disappointment hung tangibly in the air, so thick that Dick wasn’t sure how Bruce wasn’t managing to smother himself with it.  Bruce suffocating under the weight of his own disappointment was a strangely satisfying image given the circumstances.

 

Jason snorted at Bruce’s comment, but neither man was in the mind frame to deal with the Red Hood’s petulance yet.  Wally, Dick noticed, was sitting forward like this was some kind of day time drama.  Well, fuck him anyway.  Or…not, in the case of Bruce. If he hadn’t been so righteously indignant, Dick probably would have blanched, but he had spent a large portion of his life dealing with Bruce, and most of that had been learning how not to put up with Bruce’s shit.

 

“I’m sorry, _who’s_ taking advantage of someone?” Dick snapped.  “Because from where I’m sitting, I’m not the one doing any kind of cradle robbing!  You don’t get to talk to me about age differences when you’re with— _Wally_!”  He jabbed a finger in the direction of his former best friend.  Who still continued to look entirely too pleased with himself for what the situation warranted. 

 

“And just so we’re entirely clear,” Jason cut in, “I think I’m the one taking advantage of _him_.”

 

“You would really like to think that, wouldn’t you,” Dick shot back mulishly.  He turned back to Bruce, who still sat entirely too regally in the armchair. 

 

“You don’t get to take the high horse here, Bruce!  You fucked my _best friend_ in my _bed_!  How the hell does that even happen?!”  Bruce steadfastly looked away from Dick.  In fact, if Dick didn’t know Bruce better, he might have thought the man looked slightly chagrined, but the fact was he knew the man otherwise known as Batman entirely too well, and the only expression Bruce could ever really muster up onto his face was constipation. 

 

He turned his gaze to Wally, who was now fidgeting in his seat, having the decency to look slightly remorseful for what was quite possibly the first time in his life. 

 

“That wasn’t a rhetorical question.”

 

“It’s actually…kind of a funny story,” Wally replied, his grin entirely too sheepish.  And entirely too happy, what did the redhead even have to grin about right now.  “So, well…we had this…thing…today.  A Justice League thing, you know how those go, or rather…you don’t.  Actually.  Because you refuse to join the League.  But we did.”  Wally paused.  “Anyway, we were fighting aliens, as we do, and you know how Bruce is, he refuses to ever pull his head out of his ass, it fucking pisses me off, man.”  Jason nodded sympathetically, halting the action when Dick cut his eyes at him.  “So I get home in kind of a bad mood, and I mean I get kind of horny when I’m upset?  Sometimes?  I mean, I get kind of horny all the time, you know that, it kind of comes with superspeed thing, I mean, you remember that one time in the tower with Roy and we—”

 

“ _Yes_ , Wally, I remember that, no need to rehash old times, like, you know, back when we were _friends_ and I could _trust you_.”  Wally had the audacity to roll his eyes.

 

“Anyway, Linda wasn’t around, so I decided to swing around here and tidy things up a bit, as I do, and lo and behold, who’s here at your apartment already but Bruce, who then has the audacity to try and lecture me about how I handled Grodd today?  Like I’m not the one with the most experience taking out Grodd; he’s primarily _my_ rogue!”  It almost appeared as if Bruce had actually cracked the casing on his statue to roll his eyes this time, but he seemed content to let Wally finish, so Dick, again, chose to chalk any perceived emotion up to constipation.  “So we started to argue, as we do, and then we were kissing, and then I was up on the kitchen counter and—yeah.  That’s it in a nutshell.” 

 

Dick stared at his kitchen in horror. 

 

“Oh,” Wally continued, “I mean.  Aside from the bedroom.  And what we did on the couch.” 

 

Dick stared at the couch in horror.  Where Jason currently sat, unaffected.  And then, slowly, realisation dragged itself across the younger man’s face, turning him slightly grey as it went.

 

“Oh my fucking god!” Jason shrieked, leaping to his feet.  One hand frantically wiped at his ass, as if that could actually rid him of the germs.  Dick bit back a whimper.  Everything…everything was contaminated.  His kitchen.  His bedroom.  His couch.  _Jason’s ass._   If Dick Grayson was not, in fact, the hero known as Nightwing, if he were perhaps a lesser man, he might have opted, in that moment, to set himself on fire, rather than just his apartment.  As it were, he merely sank to the floor and covered his face with his hands.  He was not crying.  Dick was steadfastly not crying.

 

Although, behind him, Jason might have been a little. 

 

“Wally,” Dick’s broken voice gasped from between his fingers, “ _Linda_ , Wally. You are married.  With _children_.  Bruce, you slept with a _married man_.”

 

For someone who was so desperately in love with his wife, Wally seemed entirely unconcerned.  “I mean, I obviously never told you this because I didn’t think you wanted to know, but Linda and I might kind of be…swingers?”  This time, Dick did whimper. 

 

“We still haven’t addressed the fact that you’re taking advantage of your brother!” Bruce cut in, his voice a storm. 

 

“Oh, don’t pretend like you care, you fucking jackass!” Jason shouted from where he now stood next to the bookshelf.  “I come back to life, and you’ve just been ignoring me for however the fuck long?  You don’t get to pull that bullshit now!  Not to mention the fact that I just sat where you had _sex_!  And you ruined my night with Dick!”

 

Bruce stood up and began to walk towards his second-oldest child.  Jason attempted to back up, but as his back was already pressed against the wall, he was largely unsuccessful.  “Jason,” he said slowly.  “I understand that you’ve been killing people as a cry for attention.”

 

“What—?!” Jason tried to cut in, but Bruce kept talking over him.

 

“This…whatever this is with Dick…this is not the kind of attention you need. I thought Dick more responsible than this.   But taking advantage of you when you’re so clearly mentally unstable—” 

 

“Hey, woah, Bruce,” Wally cut in – and thankfully, because Jason looked one second from shooting Bruce unquestionably in the face, “You’re doing that thing again.  You know, that thing where you’re an unreasonable dipshit?  That’s happening right now.”  Bruce glared at Wally, then turned back to Jason.  Dick was still curled up on the floor, but he mentally agreed with Wally.  And then grew angrier because who was Wally to call Bruce a dipshit:  Wally West was the biggest asshole in this entire room at the moment. 

 

“ _Thank you_ , Flash,” Jason said again.  Wally shot a two-finger salute off at Jason.  “Why the fuck can’t you be more reasonable, like him?” Jason demanded of Bruce.   Dick shot up to his feet.

 

“No!” he exclaimed.  “Do not call him reasonable!  Wally West is the lowest kind of man!  Fuck that!”  If Jason ever wanted Little Dick anywhere near him again, he needed to stop thinking that Wally was any kind of an upstanding gentleman right this instant. 

 

“Okay, so, uh…yeah, this has been fun, but you just reminded me I gotta go; Linda’s expecting me.  And also I think I’ve had enough of Bruce for one day.  In more ways than one.”  The wink he added was just completely unnecessary.  Dick grabbed a book off his coffee table and chucked it at the man.  By the time it hit where he stood, the speedster was gone – most likely two states away already.  Fuck him. 

 

And now it was just the three of them.  Dick glanced at Jason, and then together the two of them turned to Bruce. 

 

Bruce stared back at them. His gaze was harsh, but the two of them were unrelenting.  Finally, Bruce let out a huff, and swirled around on his feet, his cape twirling behind him.  He marched over to the window, pulling up his cowl as he went. The Batman, before exiting, turned back to them, and in the deepest voice he could muster – which was impressively deep, given that this was, in fact, the Batman – said:

 

“We _will_ talk about this.” And then he disappeared. 

 

And now they were alone.  Dick and Jason.  Just the two of them, the way it was meant to be to start with.  If one Barbara Gordon, as the all-seeing Oracle, had indeed been all-seeing or simply just been awake and spying on them as she was wont to do, she would have been graced with more than enough documentation for her next peer-reviewed dissertation.  As it was, she was currently busy monitoring the Birds of Prey as they attempted to rescue one Oliver Queen from the deadly clutches of one obsessed villainess by the name of Cupid.  Black Canary would allow no distractions, so she missed it.  Luckily for Dick and Jason.

 

Dick Grayson, standing alone in his living room with his possible boyfriend, felt tears begin to leak from the corners of his eyes as he surveyed the ruined scene before him.  The room looked much the same as it had this past morning – in fact, it looked exactly the same – but it was different now.  It was ruined.  Something sacred had been lost here this night.  Something that the hero known as Nightwing knew he would never reclaim.  Dick and Jason stood together in silence, as Dick shed his tears, until, suddenly, Jason:

 

“Okay, but I’m still horny.”

 

Dick opened his mouth in pure disbelief.  “No fucking way.  What the fuck is wrong with you?”

 

“I did not sit in the same room with Bruce for what feels like two fucking hours and keep my peace for you to turn me down now.”

 

“And where the hell do you expect to do anything, Jason?  Where?  It’s all been contaminated!”

 

“Well.  I was thinking.  Since your place is obviously out, grab some stuff and crash at mine.  I can guarantee that Bruce has not fucked anyone in any of my safehouses, least of all your best friend.” 

 

“Just—no!”

 

“I didn’t even try to shoot him once!  I earned your dick, Dick!”

 

And…well, that was as compelling a reason as any.  Dick looked at Jason.  Really looked at Jason.  And suddenly, Little Dick was back in the game. 

 

“Yeah.  Sure.  Whatever.   And then afterwards, let’s burn this place down.”

 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

 

And that is how one Dick Grayson (the hero known as Nightwing) and one Jason Todd (the anti-hero/somestimes villain/former sidekick/possible boyfriend known as Red Hood) came to live together.

 

If at some point in the near future, the Bat family had an official family dinner, and at some point after said dinner, Bruce walked in on Dick fucking Jason in his bed in revenge, well.  That’s a story for another time.

 

**-End-**


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